


Softly, Without Props

by ashotofjac



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Even proposes and there's banter and a whole lotta love, M/M, i love their love, just a couple of dudes being guys, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:21:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashotofjac/pseuds/ashotofjac
Summary: February 1st, in the year 2021.2121. When two would, hopefully, become one.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Comments: 48
Kudos: 135





	Softly, Without Props

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so having February 1, 2021, be their 2121 is distinctly American. And I know Europeans do the date first and then the month, but I couldn't get this done by January 2nd as was initially requested by a lovely person on Tumblr. So we're stuck with the American ordering of the numbers. Suspend your disbelief! Pay no attention to the numbers behind the curtain, and instead behold another iteration of my favorite love story.

Time was running out. 

He pulled in a deep, lung-sharp breath that burned cold at the base of his throat. Felt the cold kiss of metal against the pad of his finger. And then he asked, “What do you think the other Isaks and Evens are doing right now?”

They were sitting on the floor, at the mouth of their balcony. The doors were thrown wide open to let in the chill. And to mask the smell of smoke. They had shoved aside the small iron table and matching chairs so they could watch as day turned to night. The sky was a bouquet of purples and blues. 

Isak didn’t look at him as he answered. “I don’t know.” He pulled from the joint, held it in the back of his throat, then exhaled a long ribbon of pale smoke. “Maybe the Isaks are folding clean laundry that their Evens finally put in the dryer an hour ago.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Or maybe they’re eating a delicious dinner that definitely didn’t take too long to make.”

Even bit the inside of his cheek so as not to smile. “Want to know what I think they’re doing?” His heart began to pick up pace. He felt it in his throat. 

“Okay,” Isak said. He handed the joint to Even, but Even did not move to take a hit. 

He gently snuffed out the joint on the top of the empty can of orange Fanta they were using as an ashtray, and placed it on the little table against the wall—the one Isak’s mother had given them out of her own living room. 

He swallowed past the panic climbing up his throat. “I think an infinite amount of Evens are down on one knee right now, asking an infinite amount of Isaks if they will marry him. Them.” He exhaled. “Except maybe the curtains are green or something.”

The silence that followed was different. Charged. Loud even though there was no noise—nothing but the wind and the white noise of their neighbors. Isak’s eyes went straight for the plain dark silver ring Even’s fingers were playing with and locked on.

Even continued. “Because it’s February 1st, in the year 2021, and that means it’s 2121. Our numbers.”

“Is that for me?” Isak murmured. Hushed with the kind of reverence one reserved for church. But Even knew this place—the home they shared—had always been Isak’s salvation. It was the same for him as well. 

Yet, Even’s heartbeat was still a wild gallop in his chest. “Yeah.” He paused. “I was going to get you an embroidered snapback that said, ‘Groom To Be,’ but I didn’t.”

Isak’s eyes didn’t leave the ring. “Thank fuck,” he whispered.

“I got us matching ones instead.”

Laughter burst out of him. It was that bright, loud, golden laugh that Even loved. Isak looked up with eyes that were glossy green. “Shut up.”

Even smiled. “Yours has a veil.”

Isak pouted, but there was no killing that raging wildfire of excitement in his eyes. “Why am I the girl?”

“Because you’re so pretty,” Even replied. 

Those happy green eyes turned a shade more serious. “I had my dick in your ass last night,” he pointed out. 

“I remember very vividly.” The evidence was still there in the burn of his muscles. The addicting ache Isak always left behind. 

“So,” Isak said, using the voice he always did when he was trying to win an argument—with Even, with Eskild, with his friends, “according to Magnus, that would mean _you’re_ the girl."

Even was quicker. “Well, according to you, ‘according to Magnus’ isn’t even a real sentence, so...”

Isak’s smile was so pretty and his eyes were practically dancing. By his face alone, there was no doubt at all who he loved most in this world. And that fact made Even’s whole body light up in a numbing sort of high—the high he could only get from a day when the depression was completely gone from his door, or when he was wrapped in the sheets with Isak. 

Isak looked at the ring again. “Holy shit.”

“We don’t have to,” Even said, trying to reassure. He wanted Isak to know that, no matter what, he always had a choice. No matter the answer, he would never lose Even. “If you don’t want to.”

Isak’s eyes were sharp when they found Even’s. He looked as if he couldn’t believe Even had just said that. “I do.”

“Yeah?” It was a little unsure. 

“Yes.” It was undeniably certain. 

All of Even’s bones and muscles and matter relaxed, and joy began to fill the places where fearful tension had been. “Come here,” he said softly, tapping the floor twice with his right hand. 

Isak didn’t hesitate. He got onto his knees and climbed into Even’s lap, both legs around his hips. Isak’s thighs felt like a dream, two strong parentheses around him—a little aside just for them two. A brief whispered fragment at the beginning of their entire story. 

Isak placed his hands, calloused and cold, on Even’s face and cradled his jaw in his hands. “Holy shit,” he repeated, “I fucking love you.”

Even was quick. “And I love fucking you.”

Isak rolled his eyes. A pretty swoop of green. “Perv. Is that the only reason you’re proposing?”

“Nah,” Even said softly, melting everywhere. Isak’s weight was a reassurance that he wouldn’t disappear. “I just love you a lot.”

Half a second later and Isak was kissing him. It was the kind of kiss that shouted out its certainty. These days, no longer were the kisses they shared shy and unsure, searching like the little ones they tried in that pool so long ago. Now, when their lips touched, like they had over and over and over again, it felt like home. No matter where they were: Oslo, Trondheim, or an entirely different universe. 

Two dozen and not enough kisses later, Even fit his hand to the side of Isak’s neck. His thumb ran back and forth over a sharp cheekbone. The giddiness of the night began to swell in him like a wave, ready to completely overtake him. He didn’t care; he would gladly surrender to it. 

He could barely keep the happiness from his own eyes. He tilted his head, ready to tease. Ready to coax from Isak that quick, ragged banter he was so good at. “So, should we get Magnus a bridesmaid’s dress? I think he would look good in yellow.”

Isak huffed, a small bratty noise. “ _No_. It would probably just turn out to be a kink of his and then we’re forever tied to his sex life in that way.”

“I mean, I’ve already described gay sex to him in very specific detail.”

Isak’s frown came in the form of furrowed brows and a scrunched expression. “We agreed to keep him in the dark.”

Even shrugged, letting his right hand fall to the place where Isak’s hip met the swell of his ass. “I caved,” he admitted. “About two weeks ago.”

“So that’s why he mailed us grape-flavored lube.” 

Even nodded. They’d made good, if not slightly experimental, use of that particular gift a few days ago. 

“Fucking Magnus,” Isak said with no heat. His eyes dropped like falling stars and caught on the band still circled loosely between the first and second knuckle of Even’s left pointer finger. “Can I...” He seemed to lose the thread of his thought the longer he stared, but eventually Isak came back. “Can I put it on?”

“Of course,” Even said. “It’s yours.”

Isak was quick to reach for it, pulling it from Even’s hand effortlessly. But when his thumb hit the inside of the band, he stilled. Turned it at an angle between his fingers and looked closer. Read the fine engraving four times. 

And then he looked up. “Minute by minute?” he repeated with a low voice. 

Even did a short nod—a shadow of the habit he’d picked up from Isak himself. “Forever and always.” He meant that down to the very cells in his body that Isak always told him about after each class. 

There was naked wonder in Isak’s expression—wide eyes turned glassy, parted lips, cheeks warm with the spill of a rosé blush. “I have never loved you more.”

Even smiled, one last little thing up his sleeve. “Just wait till you see the video I made for you.”

“You made a video.” It was not asked; it was stated. 

“I did.” He ran his thumb across the pink edge of Isak’s bottom lip. It pursed in an absentminded kiss that made Even’s heart go crazy. “With a Gabrielle soundtrack and everything.”

Isak went tense with excitement. His hands went to bury themselves in Even’s hair, each one curled around the shape of Even’s skull—steady, strong, the man of his dreams. The man of his life. 

“Holy shit,” Isak was murmuring. “Put it on, what’re we waiting for?”

Love filled Even up to every nook and cranny. Outside, the sky had gone dark. But there, in their apartment, everything was lit up in gold. 

_Nothing anymore_ , he thought. _Only the rest of our lives._


End file.
